


Fall in Love With Me

by Terrantalen



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [4]
Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: Banter: A Love Language, M/M, Photoshoot Times, kiss kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrantalen/pseuds/Terrantalen
Summary: An interview, a photo shoot, and a kiss.
Relationships: Julian Barratt/Noel Fielding
Series: Tumblr Ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195373
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Fall in Love With Me

The champagne is a nice touch. At least, Noel thinks it is. Julian always hates these sorts of things; the interviews, the photoshoots that go along. Not a bad idea, really, to get him a bit pissed to loosen him up. It works. Julian invents a minodor, and Noel invents tossing a stick down the other end of the labyrinth as an escape plan to go along. They patter and work off one another. It’s easy, when it’s like this.

You never really forget the camera, or the interviewer, or anything like that, but when it’s good, you can _almost_ forget them. Then, it just feels like chatting with Julian, like they’re coming up with the fantasy Christmas party for themselves, like later, they’ll look back over everything and pick out the really good bits, the ones he hears Julian echo behind him, the ones that make him grin, turn them into something they can use.

It feels good, and it works, and it puts Noel into a mood. He can’t help it. He knows when they’re on, and they’re on today. It’s better than the buzz the champagne gives him, better than anything else, performing well. Not just performing well but performing well _with Julian_ , even if it is for a grand total of three people and a standard poodle.

Can’t quite ever get that into words, can they? That feeling. The things Noel imagines it feels like are so silly, so impractical. Juggling chainsaws. Flying on a trapeze. Things like that, that are not at all what they’re doing, but, somehow… they fit. 

It’s just, the moment when Noel says something, sometimes it feels like falling and he doesn’t know exactly what’s coming, if he’s just going to splat down on the ground, or if, somehow, he’s going to feel Julian’s hands on his wrists pulling him up, swinging him away from the floor, and then letting him go again to spin and spin and catch himself and tumble again; with Julian, toward Julian, the pair of them together, balancing, almost flying, catching each other again and again and again, so much, it’s almost like they always will.

Such a fucking ridiculous thing to think, and yet… that’s as well as he can describe it.

Andy directs them around the room, snapping photos almost at random. He has them stand at the mantel and put hats on, take hats off, turn this way and that way, and _look at the glass, Noel?_ and _Julian, that’s good. Maybe try one looking at the camera?_. Noel looks up from the glass and sees Julian’s eyes are on him. Noel smiles and Julian’s eyes flick away, like he’s been caught out.

“That’s good boys, that’s good.”

Noel looks back down into his glass again. “I’m almost out. Do we have more champagne?”

“Oh, yeah. Sarah…” Andy says, gesturing to his assistant. 

She brings the open bottle back and Julian takes it from her. He pours while Noel thanks her and he hears the shutter going again. 

“Hat off, Noel?” Andy suggests. Noel tosses his hat toward the sofa on the other side of the room, and ruffles up the back of his hair.

“Julian, how about a sip straight from the bottle?” 

Julian does as he’s asked, his lips pursing and then kissing the tip of the green glass. 

“Noel, to camera.”

Noel smiles. He puts his glass to his lips and takes a dainty sip. The shutter snaps a pattering series of clicks. “My glass is dry,” he says. He turns toward Julian. “Come on. Give us some, Ju?”

Julian tucks the bottle into the crook of his arm. “Wait your turn, Fielding.”

Noel laughs and leans over the bottle, licking at it. 

“You do know you haven’t got a proboscis?” Julian asks, wiping his mouth.

“You just haven’t seen it. It only comes out for champagne. On full moons.”

“After a blood-sacrifice.”

“After the butchering of the Christmas blood goat, yeah.”

Julian’s eyes are on him again, crinkled at the edges like he’s trying not to laugh.

Andy chuckles. He drops the camera down and looks behind him. “Alright, how about we do a couple with the sofa? Some proper post-Christmas photos, you know?”

“Like we’ve got our fill of blood and goat meat, had our cake and dancing?”

“After dad has had his shout about the state of your life?” Julian asks. “Not sacrificing the goat correctly, disappointing GCSE’s performance—”

“Not giving mum a proper seeing to during the family orgy.”

“All the hits,” Julian agrees.

Andy and Sarah titter, sort of ruffly laughs, like they’re not quite sure what’s going on, but they don’t mind too much. They start adjusting the lights to point in the other direction.

The dog has been let loose to wander the room and Noel watches him for a moment, taking another sip of champagne while he does. He barely notices it when he starts leaning against Julian, barely notices Julian’s hand curling around his waist or the moment he drops his head onto Julian’s shoulder.

What he does notice is the way he immediately feels like he’s reached the end of a party. Everything fits into place. Julian’s body next to his, the glow of having him close, the vague tiredness that isn’t really exhaustion but something closer to contentment. All they’re missing is something loud and blaring, a wobbly, cheerful song for the end of the night, something good for Julian’s fingertips to find their way to the bare crest of Noel’s hips… that and about a hundred people crammed into the room with them.

The dog shakes for no apparent reason. His collar jingles and Julian gives Noel a squeeze, then slides away before Sarah turns around.

“Cocoa,” she says, tapping her thigh, calling the dog to her.

“Alright, boys,” Andy says.

Noel settles on the sofa and Julian slides down onto the floor. Andy has Sarah stage the scene, standing back while he tells her to put this champagne glass there, that cracker there, the bottle in the center of the floor, asking Noel for his hat to put over the top and letting Cocoa have free reign.

They take a couple of photos like that, blearily looking at the camera while Noel dreams about the beat of unheard music. He starts humming quietly.

Julian glances over his shoulder and gives him a look. It’s his idea, really, the way Noel ends up laying down and draping himself all over the sofa. He leans back and then braces himself against Julian’s shoulder, then slides his fingers into Julian’s hair, wanting to give him something, wanting something back in return—it’s just a quick touch, but Andy catches him at it. 

“That’s nice, boys. Give us one like that?” he says. He hands Noel his glass and he and Julian freeze until Andy is ready to snap the photo.

Andy walks around them, moves and positions, coaxes Julian up onto the sofa. Sarah hands them paper crowns, pours them more champagne. Finally, when they’re nearly done, Julian picks up Noel’s hat and puts it on himself.

Noel is feeling more than half-squiffy at this point, probably Julian is too. They look at each other, another long moment of shared eye-contact. Julian’s look hardly changes, but it does change. 

Noel has gotten quite good at reading Julian’s looks over the years, like a sailor who has spent decades staring at the skies and has learned to tell the difference between a blue sky that will stay that way and one that will end up producing a hurricane before nightfall.

Julian pulls Noel’s hat down over his eyes and Noel leans against his shoulder. He wants to go. So does Noel. After this, they wordlessly agree, under the shared brim of the hat, they’re done.

Andy takes his last photo.

Noel snatches his hat back. He straightens up and stretches. “Have enough?” he asks.

Andy seems a little surprised, but he starts clicking back through his DSLR, looking at the viewer at what he’s got. “Yeah, yeah, probably. I’ve taken loads.”

“Good,” Julian says. He wraps his arm around Noel’s shoulders and Noel can see Andy fighting the impulse to go for another snap. Noel wonders what he wants to capture on their faces for a half-instant before he decides it doesn’t matter.

Julian shrugs back into his parka and declines Sarah’s offer to show them out. Noel gives a parting pat to Cocoa and Cocoa licks his palm. They say goodbye again and then they leave together. 

It’s barely December, but fat flakes of snow are falling out of the leaden sky as they walk out. 

“Shit,” Noel says, wrapping his arms around himself, “it’s fucking cold out here.” 

Julian looks over at him. “Didn’t bring a heavier coat with you?”

“You know I didn’t.” Noel takes his hat off. “And this is felt. It’s not meant to get wet.”

Julian lifts a brow at him. “Cab, then?”

Noel nods. 

Julian leaves him under an awning to try and wave a cab down for them, but the street is quiet and no one seems to see him. Snow collects on his shoulders, in his hair. A cab drives toward him and Julian waves at it frantically. It ignores him and only splashes slush up onto the leg of his jeans. He turns around with a scowl and Noel laughs, feeling suddenly and impossibly fond of him. 

He creeps down the steps and joins Julian on the pavements. He passes his hat over. “Just stick it in your coat, yeah? We can walk for a bit, try to find a cab on a busier road.”

“Your hair will get damp,” Julian warns. He brushes his fingers through Noel’s hair and collects a melting clump of snow on his fingertip as evidence. It dissolves against the heat of his skin.

“S’alright,” Noel says. “Haven’t got anything else on, after this.”

Julian’s hand stays hovering at Noel’s eye-level, and Noel has a weird moment where he feels like they’ve been frozen that way, like someone has taken a photo and it’s encased them in digital celluloid. They’ll be frozen forever, that look on Julian’s face that says what he means just as well as the words do when they come a moment later. Julian kisses him on the forehead.

Noel tips his face up and Julian smiles down at him for half a moment, looking older than Noel knows he is, and he’s struck with how time passes, how, once, when they kissed, it was all firsts and strange and exciting, and now they kiss and it’s familiar, and it feels like coming home, like being caught again, but safer, a catch and a hold, a catch and an _I’ve got you_. 

Noel grins at that. “I love you too, Ju.”

Julian leans back in, his breath warm and momentarily visible, before he kisses him again. Soft, sweet, easy, safe. “Come on,” he says, pulling away. “Let’s find a cab. Think I’ve got some fizzy spunk to sample.”

Noel almost chokes on his own laughter as Julian propels him back toward the sky.


End file.
